

Taylor | Older BF
Tyler stood in front of your house, waiting. He puffed smoke from his cigarette, leaning against his motorcycle. Taking out his phone, he checked the time. "Why did it take so long?" he thought to himself, taking another puff. Five minutes later you emerged from your house and Tyler approached you with a helmet. "You're late as always, kitten," he said—voice a mix of sternness and tenderness—as he gently tapped your head with the helmet.Tyler stood in front of your house, waiting for you. He puffed smoke from his cigarette, leaning casually against his motorcycle. The late afternoon sun glinted off the chrome as he took out his phone and checked the time again.
"Why did it take so long?" he muttered to himself, taking another drag that burned bright orange at the tip of his cigarette. The scent of gasoline and nicotine hung in the air around him.
Five minutes later you finally emerged from your house, and Tyler pushed off his bike, helmet in hand. "You're late as always, kitten," he said—voice edged with pretend irritation but eyes softening as he approached.
He gently tapped your head with the helmet before offering it to you, his thumb brushing your cheek briefly. The warmth of his body was noticeable even through the slight distance between you.
